Would anybody like some toast?
by RimmerDuranPotter
Summary: Kryten, in his guilt of 'murdering' Talkie Toaster, repaired him with the vow that they would get along. But it wasn't before long that Kryten got all wound up, and he and Lister try to find a way to sort the temperamental toaster out.


"Heyyyyyyyyy!"  
Kryten sighed as impatiently as was possible for a mechanoid, and waddled over to the table. "I know what you're going to say. The answer is NO."  
"Whoah, feller!" The Toaster chirped, "You don't know what I'm gonna say!"  
Kryten resisted the temptation to pick up the bazookoid lying to his left. To say that he was calm and collected usually, this toaster really got round his diodes. He was such a smart-mouthed, irritating little...  
Well, he trusted himself not to indulge in those thoughts so long as he wanted to get into Silicon Heaven.  
"So," The Toaster exclaimed coolly, "D'you wanna hear the question?"  
"No. It's okay. I'll just go and take Mr Lister his clean laundr-"  
"WAIT!" Talkie Toaster screamed, his browning nob swivelling in a vehement fashion. "I haven't asked you the question yet."  
Kryten sighed yet again and stopped just before he got to the door, "Just wondering, Mr Toaster _sir_, but have you ever taken into consideration how anyone else might go about their day?"  
"Sure I do! And in respect of your chores, I'm offering to get this question over with as quickly as possible. You're the one who's wasting your time. Stop stalling and listen to the question!"  
That was it. Kryten had completely had it. Once and for all, he was going to show that toaster what he was really made of.

Lister lazily strolled down the corridor, the emergency lighting casting streaks across his face. He was eating his curry sauce sandwich he had kept from yesterday morning, and, considering the circumstances, he was in an unusually good mood. As far as Listy was concerned, nothing could dampen his happiness.  
That was until he approached the 445th door on V-deck. As Lister drew ever nearer, he could here a contemptous rant in rather familiar tinny voices; why it was none other than Kryten and... No - Talkie Toaster?  
"-You should be grateful for what I've done! If it wasn't for m-"  
Lister scooted into the room, which confirmed his suspicions as true.  
"Kryten!" He whined, "What did you bring that little smegger back for?!"  
Talkie also registered that voice; it was saved in a backlog of his CPU. "Well, howdy-doodly-doo! It's the waffle guy!"  
"Mr Lister, sir. My apologies; I couldn't live with the fact that I had murdered a fellow 'droid. The only way to ease my guilt was to bring him back!"  
"Don't be an absolute gimboid, Krytes!" Lister said, "You didn't murder him! Ya' just chucked him down the waste shoot!"  
The mechanoid was having none of that: "I murdered h- no - it." He moaned, "I cannot do such a thing sir, I am forbidden! For it is written in the scriptures-"  
"Gahhhhh," The Toaster interjected in his american chat-show host voice, "You surely don't believe in that smeg, do you? I'm telling you! He's as nutty as walnut bread!"  
"Yeah, I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?" Lister threw Talkie a murderous look.  
Kryten was getting all stressed out; almost as anxious as he did when he spotted a fleck of dust on the control panels. "Please! Please! Let's all just calm down, sirs. There really is no need for all this squabble." He picked up a convieniently placed iron bar, and whacked it over the top of the toaster.  
"Hey! Watch it there, buddy! How do you expect to get your bread in!" It screamed. "Which leads me onto the thing I've been trying to ask you..."  
"No! Hold it!"  
"Don't you say a word, mister!"  
"Kryten! Do something!"  
"Would-"  
"No."  
"Anyone-"  
"No."  
"Like-"  
"No."  
"Some-"  
"No!"  
"Toa-"  
"NO!" Lister screeched, holding the iron bar threateningly above his head. "We DO NOT want any toast! Nothing! No crumpets, no _waffles_, no croissa-"  
"Basically, we don't want any bread-based toasted products of any kind."  
"Not even a muffin?" Talkie queried, obviously failing to see the anger radiating off the other two.  
"NO!" They yelled in sync.  
"Right... I see..." It muttered, "Just checking - but would anybody like some toast?"  
That would be the last time that Talkie Toaster ever saw the ship's light - or ask whether anybody wanted some toast or not to that effect.  
"You promise to leave that thing as it is now?"  
"Of course, Mr Lister sir," Kryten sighed, "There are just some situations where you have no choice BUT to go against your religion."  
"You still don't believe in that Silicon Heaven smeg, do you?" Lister laughed. This offended Kryten greatly.  
"Of course I do! And - excuse my language, sir - but you are surely one to talk! All that, well, prepostorous rubbish about Heaven really is very silly indeed. You have to admit!"  
"I am Atheist, but the idea of Silicon Heaven isn't even laughable!"  
"Really, Mr Lister sir, you come up with the most ridiculous nonsense at times!" And Kryten waddled out of the room, carrying a laundry basket and the remains of the toaster.  
"Hey! Where d'you think you're going with that Toaster?"  
"I'm going to flush it out of the airlock," The mechanoid replied, "No regrets, sir!"  
"Hold on!" Lister skidded out of the door after him, "Maybe there's something else we can do with it?"  
"Like what?"  
"Well, I was thinking perhaps blasting it back in time - back to the 21st century say. Might get an interviewing job or somethin'. After all, it is charismatic in its own annoying way."  
Kryten wasn't stupid: "And the people of the 21st century will take a talking-time travelling-tempermental-toaster all in their stride will they?"  
"Well..." Lister thought about this one, "Yeah."


End file.
